Blink
by MaraSil
Summary: A brief look at Maria's reaction to the news of the Captain's engagement. Complete.


**Blink**

A/N: While I was watching the scene where Maria returns from the Abbey, I noticed that the Captain only blinks once (which I'm ignoring here) until the Baroness arrives and his attention is pulled away from Maria. It made me want to write this.

* * * * *

"_The most important thing is that Father is going to be married."_

She heard what Brigitta had said. The word was simple and brutally clear. It struck her with enough force to take her breath away. Married. She felt her blood run cold; she felt her heart stop beating. Married. How could… what had…

"_Married?"_

"_Yes, to Baroness Schraeder."_

She looked at Louisa, still ruled by confusion and disbelief. Louisa nodded, apparently recognizing how stunned Maria was by the news. Married? But she had only just returned. She had come back to… Married.

"_Oh, I see."_

The words escaped from her as she let go of the breath she had been holding. She did see. She saw that she had been foolishly mistaken. She should never have returned. It would have been better to remain at the Abbey. Now she would have to see him again, knowing that he was to be married. Now she would have to leave him again.

"_Oh, Father, look!"_

She was startled out of her thoughts so suddenly, another shocking blow rocking her to the core. Too much. Too soon. It was all happening too fast. Her head snapped to the left, and there he was. There he was. Once again, there did not seem to be enough air for her to breathe.

"_Fräulein Maria's come back! Fräulein Maria's come back from the Abbey!"_

He was just standing there, watching her, arms straight at his sides, not moving a muscle. How long had he been standing there? Had he heard the children telling her about his engagement? Had he seen her reaction? She had no way of knowing. All she could see was that he stood there, saying nothing, and she could only stare back, frozen. There he was.

As she looked at him, she felt her cheeks warm. She could almost imagine that he had been waiting for her, if things had been different. But that was impossible now. Perhaps it had always been impossible. She realized that she could not keep staring back at him. If she did, she would drown.

"_Good evening, Captain."_

"_Good evening."_

He finally moved, spoke, bowed his head, even smiled. His eyes never left her, never blinked. He smiled at her, and she was frozen once again, because he seemed pleased to see her. But that must be her imagination, making her see what she wanted to see, despite knowing the truth. She wanted to look away from him, but she couldn't. If only he would blink, perhaps she could look away. But he didn't blink. Not for a moment did he look at anything but her. And she found it impossible to look at anything but him.

"_All right, everyone inside. Go and get your dinner."_

"_Dinner!"_

The children hurried into the house in single-minded purpose, the return of their governess already so thoroughly accepted that it was no longer worthy of note. They carried away her bag and her guitar, and as quickly as that, they were gone. They had left her alone with him; they had left her with nothing to hold.

Even while he had made his announcement and the children had rushed past him, he had never taken his eyes off her. Even now, as he started to move toward her, making his way down the steps, he stared at her, unblinking. As if there was no one else. She stared back, watching him come closer, and as her heart raced, she had to remind herself that there was most definitely someone else for him.

"_You left without saying goodbye. Even to the children."_

There was no anger or reproach in his voice. She might have expected either or both from him after the abrupt manner in which she had left. But instead, he spoke gently, a hint of bewilderment in his voice and in his expression. She heard the words he spoke. She also heard what he had not said. She had left without saying goodbye to _him_.

She wanted to reach out and smooth the wrinkles that had formed between his eyebrows. She wanted to fasten the top button of his jacket, to straighten his tie. It was so uncharacteristic for him to be anything less than perfectly groomed and attired. She clasped her hands in front of her, afraid that the impulse would overpower her, forcing her to make an unforgivable and humiliating mistake.

"_Well, it was wrong of me. Forgive me."_

She had been so wrong, about so many things. But she could not tell him that. Some things had to remain unspoken. There were things she could not say, things he could not hear. Things he could not know.

"_Why did you?"_

It was a question she had hoped he would not ask. There was no way for her to answer it, not truthfully. Why had he asked when she could not answer?

"_Please don't ask me. Anyway, the reason no longer exists."_

She prayed that he would not insist on more of a response, but she could see that he was not satisfied. He continued to stare at her, his eyes piercing, still not blinking, and she had no more words for him. His intense gaze was peeling away at her, and she suddenly felt as she had after they had danced the Ländler, when they had stared, unblinking, into each other's eyes. When, for a moment, no one else had existed. When she had first begun to realize that she was his.

"_Fräulein Maria, you've returned. Isn't it wonderful, Georg?"_

When the sound of the Baroness's voice made him looked away, she felt that he had released her. And even though she felt as if she had been cut adrift, that she was no longer anchored, she knew she would have to bear it and find her way. She watched the Baroness take her rightful place beside the Captain. If she felt a stab of pain, she would just have to bear that as well.

She had to swallow before she felt able to speak.

"_May I wish you every happiness, Baroness. You too, Captain. The children tell me you're to be married."_

She walked forward, making her way closer to the house, closer to an escape from the two of them. She forced a smile on her face. The Captain nodded, smiling slightly, and the Baroness responded with more warmth than she had ever heard or seen from her.

"_Thank you, my dear."_

The smile froze on Maria's face as she looked at them, standing next to each other, and suddenly she could no longer bear the sight of them together. She quickened her pace toward the house, running up the steps, the lump in her throat growing. She was close now, at the top of the steps. But no, he would not make this easy.

"_You are back to… stay?"_

She could feel his unblinking gaze on her, threatening to expose her, threatening to draw the tears from her eyes. She reached for the top of the railing and tried to absorb some its hardness, some of its strength. She turned to face the Captain.

"_Only until arrangements can be made for another governess."_

She was finally able to escape. As she made her way into the house, the tears filling her eyes, she could feel his unblinking gaze following her. She fled, knowing that, no matter where she went, she would never be able to escape it.

* * * * *

Maria raced toward the house, fighting back tears. Even once she was through the doorway, she still half expected to hear the Captain's voice calling out to her yet again, forcing her to stop, to turn back and face him, to face the two of them together. When she did not hear his voice, she welcomed the relief that rippled through her. But she was not prepared for the stunning force of the acute disappointment that accompanied her relief. She gasped and immediately clamped her mouth shut against the sob that was forming in her throat.

He had not called her again.

Staggering under the weight of her emotions, she sped toward the stairs, her legs moving as quickly as her skirt would allow. It was such a large house. She had stared in wonder and admiration the first time she had entered it; now all she could see was the vastness of the space that lay between her and the safety of her room. She was only just able to restrain herself from running; if she were seen running, she was certain that word would get back to Captain. She could not face his disapproval, not now.

It seemed an endless passage of step after interminable step. She had the sudden irrational thought that she would never reach the staircase, that she would remain forever trapped in the nightmares of her childhood, always searching, never finding. But, finally, there it was, only a few feet away. Just as she planted her foot on the first step, she heard distant voices coming from behind; the Captain and the Baroness were entering the house.

_No no no no… _A silent cry, a silent scream, coming from a place so deep that she had never before been aware it even existed. Perhaps it had not existed until now.

The voices made her rush up the steps leading to the front door and turn quickly to start on the next set of stairs. She could not let them see her, not when she was still struggling to hold back her tears. And she did not want to have to look at the two of them again so soon. She could not bear it. She increased her pace, racing as if pursued.

_Only eight more steps_, she told herself when she reached the final set of stairs. Just as she began the final climb, the clear sound of the Captain's voice made her falter. It was only her grip on the banister that kept her from stumbling. She was unable to make out his words, but the sound of his voice, a sound that tethered her to him, made her turn her head involuntarily toward it, toward him. She looked over the side of the banister; they were walking slowly, having just entered the house. The Captain held the Baroness's hand in his; he was smiling. As Maria watched, the Baroness turned to him and laughed.

The sound of the Baroness's throaty laughter followed Maria as she turned and ran the rest of the way up the stairs and down the corridor, no longer caring if anyone saw her. Through the blur of unshed tears, Maria made her way to her room and shut herself inside. She leaned against the door and blinked back the tears, refusing to let them fall. She swallowed over and over again past the lump in her throat, forcing it to subside. She would not cry.

She felt suddenly weak and exhausted, her legs rubbery. She sank into the chair by the door. Now that she was alone in her room, now that she had a moment by herself to think, she was dumbfounded by the way she had reacted. She would not have believed it possible. But the shock of the news, of seeing them together immediately after learning of the engagement, had been too much. She had never expected… she had not thought…

Well. Now she knew.

She looked around the room she had left so recently, having never expected to see it again. There was the elegant wardrobe that still housed most of the clothing she had grown accustomed to wearing; she had taken none of the new dresses with her when she had left. There were the pale lined drapes, the ones that had offered her the opportunity and means to make the children's play clothes.

There was the bed; except for her carpetbag that had been placed on it, the bed appeared exactly as she had left it, the subtly patterned bedspread not quite evenly spread over the pillows. It was the largest bed in which she had ever slept. She saw herself in it, once again surrounded by seven storm-frightened children, looking to her for comfort.

It all looked the same. She felt surprised by that, and wondered why she should feel surprised. She did not know what she had expected, but despite the fact that so little time had passed since she had last seen the room, it felt to her as if it had been a lifetime. It felt as if the room should have aged, changed, been marked somehow. But the only one changed, the only one marked, was her.

"_There's nothing more irresistible to a man than a woman who's in love with him."_

"_In love with him?"_

"_Of course. What makes it so nice is… he thinks he's in love with you."_

She stood on shaky legs and walked slowly toward the window. She turned around, looking at where the Baroness had stood. She could see her standing there again, so elegant in appearance, her expression knowing, yet not unkind. She could hear her voice, saying things that should sound cold and harsh and accusing, and yet there had been a measure of warmth in it instead.

It seemed so long ago. Was it really such a short time ago that she had heard those words from the Baroness, the ones that had made her run away? The Reverend Mother had made her believe that something else was possible, had convinced her to return, to find love if it was there to be found.

But it was not there to be found. Not for her. Not with him.

The image of the Captain's face, his eyes staring into hers, filled her mind, and another wave of pain passed through her, stealing her breath away. She doubled over the bed, her head hanging low, and she buried her hands in the carpetbag, gripping it with enough force to make her knuckles ache. She bit down hard on her lip, determined not to let the wave of pain dominate her. Again she blinked back the tears. She would not cry.

She reminded herself that she had only enough time to unpack, freshen up, and change before she would be expected to join the family for dinner. The Baroness and Herr Detweiler would be present as well. There was no time to cry. She could not afford herself the luxury of tears. Her hands shook with the effort to subdue the pain.

_Be still. Remember who you are._

She was more than pain. She always had been.

The wave passed. She released the carpetbag and stepped away from the bed, straightening her back and squaring her shoulders. She was no stranger to pain and loss. She had learned long ago that she could not be so easily shattered. She had learned that there was a strength upon which she could rely, and a Strength that would always carry her when she needed it. And she knew that always, always, there would be another way, another truth, another life.

_You will not be broken._

As much as she dreaded facing the Captain and the Baroness together, she would do it. She would accept what must be accepted. She would not hide, she would not run again. She had come seeking answers, and she had found them. She would accept the will of God. She was determined that she would not be devastated just because she had… because she had fallen in love.

_I will give you rest._

She closed her eyes and inhaled deeply, letting her lungs fill completely, grateful that her chest no longer convulsed with each breath. The air refreshed her body and her spirit. Yes. She could breathe again.

_Do what you must do._

She opened the carpetbag and quickly unpacked her meager belongings, storing them in the wardrobe. She carried a few personal items into the bathroom. She needed to change out of her traveling clothes. Calmly, she walked back to the wardrobe to select a dress.

She paused, uncertain as to which dress to wear. Although everyone was expected to dress more formally for dinner when there were guests in the house, given her role as governess and her limited selection and resources, she was not held to the same expectations. She was only expected to join them for dinner to tend to the children. It would not matter what she wore as long as it was presentable, as all of her dresses were.

Still, something compelled her to pull out the blue dress. She hardly knew why, but she wanted to prove to herself that the Baroness had been mistaken, that she _must_ have been mistaken about the Captain. She would wear the dress, and he would not notice her. Perversely, part of her felt the need for additional proof of what she already knew to be true.

She held the dress gingerly, lovingly, the fabric so soft and delicate that she could barely feel its weight on her skin. She allowed herself to remember, to see the Captain once more as he sang the final line of his song to her. She let the image fade and carefully returned the dress to the wardrobe, pulling out a brown dress instead. There was no need to prove anything. It was enough.

Glancing at the alarm clock by her bed, she saw that she did not have much time left. She changed quickly and returned to the bathroom to freshen up. Before leaving, she looked at her reflection for a long moment, trying to determine if any trace of her emotions could be seen on her face. While she was unable to force a cheerful look and she looked tired, she was at least gratified to see that her eyes were clear and she looked herself. She was ready.

She ran a brush through her hair quickly, adjusted the waist of her dress, and left the room.


End file.
